Help Wanted

They were impossible. Insane. Ridiculous. How exactly had he put up with them before he'd went to Beauxbatons? Feeling suddenly very sorry for his younger self, present day Julian continued to feel very bitter, glowering to any paserbyers.

He was sick and tired of his family. Well, not all of them, but the majority of them was enough to ruin every minute he spent there. And so, though he thought the term was a tad bit dramatic, Julian had ran away.

Crossing his arms, he justified it to himself as he glanced up at the house in front of him. He wasn't even sure why it was her he was going to. Lissy or the de Venins would've let him stay over, yet he found himself outside the Fontaine household. Well, I do live closest to them.

Minutes later, he found himself standing outside their door, staring up at the knocker uneasily. What did he even say to them? Somehow, he doubted an, 'Oh, can I stay here?' would work. Sighing softly, he rubbed his forehead, forcing himself to stop looking so miserable and pissed off.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked and waited for an answer.

Ninette had been lounging in the sitting room, flipping through some magzine or another, spotting out the latest trends when she heard the knock on the door.

"Mama!" she called, "Door!"

As if she would get up. She waited a moment but after getting no response, "Mama!Mama!"

She huffed as she still got no answer.

"Fine! I'll get it," she glowered as she chucked her magazine aside and stomped through the door.

"What do you wan-" she threw the door open and frowned at the boy on her stoop for a moment, "What's up your butt Rousseau; you look like a five year old who just lost all their candy."

What if they weren't even home? Suddenly worried that he'd have to stand here on their doorstep for hours, Julian frowned, tapping his foot as he hoped and waited for someone to answer, crossing his fingers.

Starting slightly as the door was opened, he scowled at Ninette's comment, his throat aching at the mention of candy. Sliding inside around her, he said calmly, with a very hint of sarcasm, "Hey Nine. It's nice to see you too. Thanks for inviting me inside."

Turning around to face her, he shoved his hands into his pockets, "So, how are you?"

Ninette rolled her eyes and opened the door a little wider, "Don't be such high maintence Rousseau - you'll never get any girlst that way."

She flashed him a little smirk before swinging her arm in a gesture.

"You should know by now Rousseau, unless I try to kill you on the door step, your allowed inside. For some reason, Mama is fond of you."

"I seem to be better than you are," she said slowly looking hte boy over before leaning against the wall, "So I repeat. Whats wrong with you?"

"Funny," Julian muttered in a tone that showed he found it anything but, "that's the last thing on my mind right now." Flicking his gaze up to her, his expression remained stony.

Shuffling on his feet, he kicked off his shoes, humming a rather melancholy song.

"Your mother has good taste," Julian shrugged, lacking his usual bravado. "Can you really blame her?"

Shrugging, he glanced at her for a moment before saying slowly, "There's nothing wrong with me. It's not like I'm dying or anything. It's just," he shrugged, rubbing his arm with his hand, "you've met my family. They're annoying. So I left."

"God Rousseau shot a girl for making a joke," she rolled her eyes as she threw the door closed behind him.

She snorted, twirling on her heals to go back to the sittingroom, assuming Julian would follow her, "You call it good taste, I call it moments of insantiy."

Ninette glanced over her shoulder at the boy as he spoke, her face impassive, her eyes - if one looked close enough - showing just the slightest (Bare minimal) concern.

"You left for a day trip to see you're favourite person in the world or you.... left?"

Shrugging, Julian glanced at her for a moment, "There's a lot worse you could do to someone."

Following behind her, he glanced around passively. The place hadn't changed much since the last time he'd been here. "So people who are fond of me are insane?" he asked curiously.

Shrugging, he continued into the sitting room, stretching out on a couch. Taking a deep breath, he glanced up at Ninette, "I left. I'll probably go back eventually, but for now..." he trailed off, looking anywhere other than at her.

Ninette blinked at the boy for a long moment, her face impassive as her mind swirled with the information being put before it.

"So... you came here?"

She raised her eyebrow at the boy. She hadn't really been expecting that. She supposed that it wasn't that unreasonable. She was the closest but she felt oddly...

"Pick a room Rousseau," she nodded her head to the stairs, "There's one or two hanging around that no one uses. Don't do anything stupid and I suppose I won't kick you out."

"You're the closest," Julian shrugged, beginning to act more like himself, "and besides, there's always that chance that Lissy or the Musical Duo's parents won't let me stay. They could be all," he cleared his throat and impersonated an angry father, "'No, there is no way we're allowing a boy to stay under my roof.' So there's that, and your mother's fond of me, so your my safest bet."

Realizing that he was still wearing his coat, he shrugged it off, nervously folding it in his lap. Turning back to Ninette, he stared at her for a moment, his head buzzing. She'd actually - breaking into a grin, he pulled himself up off the couch to stand in front her. Instead of hugging her, which had been his first reaction, he patted her shoulder, still grinning. "Thank you."

Nodding, he saluted her before bounding up the stairs to choose a room.